hing but superhuman intervention or treachery can
save the Stadtholder--of that am I convinced. Neither God nor the devil
care to interfere in men's affairs--we need not therefore fear
superhuman intervention. But 'tis the thought of treachery that haunts
me."

"Bah!" quoth Beresteyn with a shrug of the shoulders, "you have made a
nightmare of that thought. Treachery? there is no fear of treachery.
Yourself, van Does, Heemskerk and I are the only ones who know anything
at this moment of our plans for to-morrow. Do you suspect van Does of
treachery, or Heemskerk, or me?"

"I was not thinking of Heemskerk or of van Does," rejoined Stoutenburg,
"and even our men will know nothing of the attack until the last moment.
Danger, friend, doth not lie in or around the molens; it lurks at
Rotterdam and hath name Gilda."

"Gilda! What can you fear from Gilda now?"

"Everything. Have you never thought on it, friend? Jan, remember, lost
track of that knave soon after he left Haarlem. At first he struck
across the waterways in a southerly direction and for awhile Jan and the
others were able to keep him in sight. But soon darkness settled in and
along many intricate backwaters our rogue was able to give them the
slip."

"I know that," rejoined Beresteyn somewhat impatiently. "I was here in
the early morning when Jan reported to you. He also told you that he and
his men pushed on as far as Leyden that night and regained the road to
Rotterdam the following day. At Zegwaard and again at Zevenhuizen they
ascertained that a party consisting of two women in a sledge and an
escort of three cavaliers had halted for refreshments at those places
and then continued their journey southwards. Since then Jan has found
out definitely that Gilda and her escort arrived early last night at the
house of Ben Isaje of Rotterdam, and he came straight on here to report
to you. Frankly I see nothing in all this to cause you so much
anxiety."

"You think then that everything is for the best?" asked Stoutenburg
grimly, "you did not begin to wonder how it was that--as Jan ascertained
at Zegwaard and at Zevenhuizen--Gilda continued her journey without any
protest. According to the people whom Jan questioned she looked sad
certainly, but she was always willing to restart on her way. What do you
make of that, my friend?"

Once more Beresteyn shrugged his shoulders.

"Gilda is proud," he said. "She hath resigned herself to her fate."

Stoutenburg laughe